


Eleutheria

by VarjoRuusu



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Actually General Flint, Alfred Hamilton - Freeform, Angst, Charles Vane - Freeform, Edward Teach - Freeform, Fluff, Greek Silver, Jack Rackham, Logan - Freeform, Love, M/M, Marcus Aurelias, Roman AU, Roman Flint, Smut, With guest appearances by:, probably a whole lot of other tags but well I did the best I could, thomas hamilton - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 16:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11604852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VarjoRuusu/pseuds/VarjoRuusu
Summary: Flint is a Roman General sent to put down a rebellion near Athens. Silver is a Greek, captured and 'gifted' to Flint by his men. Flint's doesn't react well, and instead, Silver becomes his scribe. Along the way they grow closer and the patented Feelings! happen, leaving them both confused and suddenly having to fight for their lives when they uncover a plot to kill the Emperor, Marcus Aurelius.





	Eleutheria

**Author's Note:**

> So the summery is probably far more dramatic than the actual story. I was chatting with a friend on Tumblr and she said 'Roman General Flint' and there went my brain. A couple days later I'm happy to present you with this. 
> 
> It's not as in depth as I expected it to be, and it covers a lot more time, and has an odd feel to it compared to some of my writing, but overall I'm happy with it. I hope it fills the hopes of everyone who was interested in this idea. :)
> 
> I probably could have put a lot more detail, a lot more historical stuff in this, I don't know. this is just want came out when I started writing. 
> 
> Title is 'Freedom' in Latin. (According to Google anyway.)
> 
> Not Beta Read

_Near Athens,_ _October,_ _175 A.D._

Flint was tired. He and his battalions had been in Greece for almost three years, hunting for the roots of a rebellion against the Emperor Marcus Aurelius. They had sacked a town that morning, a stronghold of the growing rebellion and he was exhausted. He'd fought alongside his men, like he always did, but it was beginning to take a toll on him, the constant movement, the constant battle. Each new report took them somewhere else, with no orders from Rome beyond that Flint had full discretion to use whatever means necessary to find the one single man ultimately responsible for the unrest.

Border towns and outposts had been sacked on the Roman side for months before Flint was sent to put a stop to it, and while they had pushed the rebellion back into Greece, the men that occupied the outposts around Athens were still under constant harassment. If they didn't root out the rebellion before winter came, Flint was seriously considering desertion. He didn't want to spend another season out here. It had already been several years since he'd seen Rome, and he was in no mood to spend another dreary winter in a tent with little heat and constant cold damp. It was already past harvest time and winter would be upon them in a matter of weeks, yet they were no closer to finding the man they sought.

His men were interrogating the prisoners last raid, trying to find any clue as to who or where the leader that was rising a rebellion was, but so far they'd had no luck. Either no one knew, or they were that fiercely loyal that even with the threat of all of Rome swooping down upon them, they would not betray him. The town had barely been defended and it had been a matter of an hour to sweep in and take prisoners, over a hundred men all told. Those who were of some use would be kept with the campaign, the rest would be shipped back to Rome and sold as slaves.

Flint sighed, slumping in his chair behind his desk in the outer room of his tent, rubbing his forehead in exhaustion. He'd already washed the grim of battle from his skin and eaten a good mean, but he had several reports to fill out before he could sleep, so they could be sent to Rome the next afternoon. He reached for the closest papers and got to work with a grimace. By the time someone was knocking on the tent post, the candles had burned down to almost nothing and he was squinting over the pages.

“What is it?” Flint snapped, glancing up from his papers. Logan, a lieutenant he didn't particularly like, dragged in a young man in chains, face hidden by a mop of curly hair, and pushed him to the floor. The man looked up and Flint's eyes nearly widened as he took in his features and his piercing blue eyes. His face looked like it belonged on a statue, even filled with the defiant scowl he wore as he stared at Flint, unmoving.

“A gift for you, General, from the men,” Logan sneered. “We found him amongst the prisoners. He's got such a pretty face. Perhaps when you're done with him, you might pass him back to us. We could certainly have some fun.”

Flint saw a flicker of fear behind the young mans eyes, right along with the fierce determination and anger and he scowled.

“Get out,” he growled at Logan, not in the mood to put up with him any longer. Logan saluted with a sneer and left the tent. Flint watched the man for another minute then turned away, ignoring him completely as he piled the papers and stood, turning toward his sleeping area, separated by a heavy flap.

“Don't you want me to service you?” the man growled and Flint's shoulders stiffened.

“I have no interest in your _service_ ,” he said over his shoulder.

“Will you give me back to them, then?” the man asked and Flint nearly sighed. He was cruel to his enemies and strict with his men, but he wasn't that much of a monster. He'd seen genuine fear in the mans eyes and he wasn't going to subject him to his men when their blood was still hot from battle and their wine running freely. He grabbed a rough blanket from a chair and threw it at the man without looking at him.

“You can sleep in the corner, I'll take you back to the other prisoners in the morning. Don't think about trying anything, I sleep light,” he muttered, crossing the divide in the tent to his bedroom, making sure his sword and dagger were in reach before he lay down to sleep.

In the other room the man was silent, and Flint drifted into a light sleep after a while. When he rose in the morning he found the man curled in the corner, the blanket wrapped around his legs. He jerked awake as Flint sat at his desk, eyes wide and terrified before the mask fell back into place.

“I can be useful to you,” the man said quietly, watching Flint cautiously.

“I told you I don't want-”

“I can read and write,” the other man said hastily and Flint paused in reaching for a stack of letters that needed answering.

“How many languages?” he asked, because a man who could read and write Greek and Latin was no use to him, not when he was fluent in both.

“Ten,” the man said quietly and Flint raised his eyebrows. “Greek, Latin, Egyptian, Assyrian, Persian, Germanic, Aramaic, Sogdian, Hebrew, and Celtic.”

Flint watched him for several long minutes and then he nodded slowly. “Some of those languages aren't even spoken anymore,” he said and the other man shrugged.

“My father is, was, a scholar. He taught me,” the man said, trying to cover his slip.

“Do you have a name?” Flint asked after a while. The man didn't answer right away then finally he nodded.

“I do, but I don't want to tell you,” he said quietly. “My mother called me Silver. She said my laugh sounded like the bells in Athena's temple.”

Flint nodded, watching Silver as he tightened his arms around his knees, his blue eyes never leaving Flint.

“How old are you?” Flint asked and Silver's eyes narrowed.

“Twenty,” he said softly after a moment.

“Was this your home?”

Silver shook his head, averting his eyes to stare at the side of the tent. “I escaped when my home was sacked, came here because I thought it was far enough out of your path.”

“Did I sack your home?”

“No,” Silver said even softer. “It was Hamilton.”

Flint froze, his eyes narrowing. General Hamilton was an older general, who was even more infamous than Flint for his cruelty on the battlefield. He was surprised Silver had escaped, honestly. Hamilton's attacks rarely left survivors. His son, Thomas, was one of the youngest senators in Rome and has once been Flint's close friend, when they grew up together. Hamilton had been prowling the borders of Rome for years, attacking towns at the smallest provocation. Flint had never liked him, and he wasn't surprised to hear that he was still as ruthless as he's always been.

“Do you plan on attacking me?” he asked Silver, leaning back.

“What?” Silver asked, eyes wide as they snapped up to Flint.

“Do you plan on attacking me? Or can I take those off?” he said, gesturing at the chains.

“Oh,” Silver said, glancing down as if he'd forgotten them. “You'd...you'd trust me free?” he asked quietly.

“If you gave me your word,” Flint shrugged. “It's not like you'd get anywhere if you tried to run. And you don't look very strong, you wouldn't be able to hurt me before I overpowered you.” Silver scowled and Flint thought it was the most visible emotion that wasn't anger that he'd seen on the man since he'd first laid eyes on him. Silently he held out the chains.

Flint came closer, crouching down as he unlocked the chains with his key, keeping his eyes on Silver. As soon as his wrists were free he drew them in against his chest, rubbing them carefully and Flint saw they were red and bruised from the cuffs. He took a long and close look at the man, noting the dark circles under his eyes and the way his skin was tight across his bones. It was obvious that he hadn't eaten well in several months, if not close to a year.

Logan hadn't been wrong, Silver was beautiful, but he was also half starved. Sighing, Flint rose and sent one of his guards to the mess tent for food for both of them. Silver stayed silently in the corner of the tent, eyes on him as he moved around, finishing the papers he had left the night before and sending them off with a page.

When two men appeared with a spread of food and laid out the second table, Flint took a loaf of bread and a chunk of meat for himself before instructing Silver to eat. Silver watched him with suspicion for a long time before he finally gave in and crawled over to the low table, reaching for the food. He easily ate enough for three men as Flint watched out of the corner of his eye and when Silver was finally finished, he scooted back to the corner and wrapped the blanket around himself, shivering.

Throughout the day Flint's captains came and went, bringing news, taking orders to the men. Their eyes flicked to Silver but no one said a word. More food was brought as night fell and again Silver ate enough for two or three men before curling in the corner and dropping off to sleep.

The second day was much the same until about midday, when Flint gestured him over and handed him parchment and writing tools, telling him to prove his skills. The tent was filled with the sounds of scratching and before long the page was filled with writings in different languages, basic things that Flint understood, easily showing that Silver had told the truth. He was good with words and scripts.

Silver's use was proved easily over the first several weeks, his ability to translate letters and write responses meaning that Flint wasn't constantly trying to chase down his lazy and drunk lieutenant, a small mousy man that was only kept around, and not flogged daily, because his father was a senator who actually cared and had paid the right people to keep his son from being subject to the normally strict military discipline. Flint wanted nothing to do with the man, but he was the only one Flint had who spoke Hebrew, before Silver.

They packed up the camp after a week and moved closer to Athens, which had become a hotbed of theft and violence as they drove the rebellion back into Greece. They were moving on their own capital, a city occupied fully by the Roman Empire for the last hundred years, determined to drive them out. There had been no formal declaration of war, no open battle on the field, but any Roman who walked the streets in Athens faced harassment, and so the army stayed.

Flint and his men settled easily enough to the west of the city, pitching their tents and even building a few more solid structures to house their kitchens and their livestock for winter. The leader, a man the Greeks called 'The Fox' was nowhere to be found, nor did anyone seem to know his true identity. The city's supply lines were being attacked almost constantly and there was hardly a night where a citizen of Rome was not accosted and beaten, despite the presence of the heavily armed men that patrolled the city. Flint told his superiors as much in his reports and as October became November, he was joined by General Rackham, who camped his battalions to the east of the city, and added his men to the constant patrols. With the extra men, the city began to quiet down as winter truly set in and November became December.

Flint kept Silver close most days, not forgetting Logan's words about how the men would 'enjoy' Silver, given the chance. He was quiet, most of the time, his blue eyes haunted as he followed Flint, falling into his work as Flint's scribe with ease. Flint had a cot set up for him after the third day, giving him somewhere marginally better to sleep than the floor, and wondered to himself if there was more reason to his strangely easy acceptance of Silver's place in his life, or if it was just the relief at not having to deal with Dufresne anymore.

“Were you part of the rebellion?” Flint asked one evening, noting how Silver paused what he was writing and stilled for long moments.

“No,” he said at last. “I wanted to be, but no. I'm not brave enough for that, and I don't know how to fight.”

Flint nodded, returning to his letter. It surprised him when Silver spoke again, softly.

“My father was,” he admitted. “He wanted me to join him, he wanted me to help him spread the word to the people. I didn't…we fought about it, the day before the village was attacked. I was away from the town when Hamilton came, that's how I survived. I saw the fire, I heard the screams, and I ran.”

“You don't want your country free from the oppression of Rome?” Flint asked, using the words most often used to describe the Roman Empire.

“I wanted to learn,” Silver said softly. “I wanted to go to Athens, study history and medicine and astronomy. I never wanted to be involved in this. Even if Rome controls Athens, I could still have learned.”

“You learn easily,” Flint said quietly, nodding to the rolls of parchment filled with languages.

“I have a good memory,” Silver chuckled and Flint realized this was the first time he'd seen anything close to a smile on Silver's face. “My father taught me every language he knew, all the math he knew, some geometry. I always wanted to know more, even when I was a small child. I was always curious.”

“Do you have any other family?” Flint asked, wondering why he hadn't asked before.

“My mother died when I was young,” Silver said quietly. “There's no one else that I know of. I think my father had a brother, but I've never met him and have no idea if he's still alive.”

Flint nodded and silence returned to the tent as they continued to work at the tedium of reports.

Despite the cold of winter as the weeks passed, Silver began to fill out again thanks to the regular meals. His bones were not so visible anymore and the shine had returned to his curls. Flint found he was spending more and more time just watching, when they were working close together late into the night. There was hardly anything that needed his attention so badly that it would cause harm to drift off inside his mind, his eyes on Silver as he hunched over the desk, writing in his neat scrawl.

The men didn't give Silver any trouble, surprisingly, but then Flint had kept him in his tent and hadn't said a word to any of them about why. He just let them assume, while he kept Silver fed, dressed him in new clothes, and allowed him some freedom around the camp. They saw him often enough, trailing after Flint with a board and parchment. They could make their own conclusions.

As December became January, and January became February, things began to grow tense between them, and Flint found his attention wandering even more often. Silver was becoming more distracting by the day and more than once he caught Flint looking. Flint never looked away first, no reason to hide his thoughtful expression.

Finally, one night after Flint had retired, Silver slipped into the sleeping area of the tent and just stood near the doorway, watching Flint for a long time, his features lit by the brazier near the bed, the only source of warmth in the room. A heavy wool blanket was wrapped around his long winter tunic and he held it close. Flint had been lying on his back, staring at the ceiling and he sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the cot, still watching Silver.

“What do you want?” he asked and Silver blinked, his hand unclenching from the tent flat and he stepped forward. He dropped the blanket and reached for the edge of his tunic, tugging it over his head and dropping it on the floor, pushing his small clothes down as he stepped forward, shivering slightly. Flint looked away.

“I told you I didn't want that from you,” he growled, resolutely ignoring Silver standing next to him, now completely naked in the firelight.

“I think you do,” he said quietly. “And you're not the only one.”

Flint couldn't help letting his eyes darting to the side quickly, taking in Silver's hard cock between his legs.

“How long since you laid with someone?” Silver asked quietly and Flint's hands clenched, his resolve fading quickly.

“Three years,” he muttered.

“You don't have a wife?”

“Of course I do,” Flint growled. “I haven't been back to Rome, and I wouldn't lie with her even if I had. She has her lovers, and I can't be bothered.”

“I see how you look at me,” Silver whispered and Flint sighed. With a shake of his head he reached a hand out and laid it on Silver's hip, pulling him forward until he was forced to straddle Flint's lap, arms resting on his shoulders.

“You want this?” Flint asked, his heavy tunic the only thing separating them. Silver nodded, biting his lip, one hand twisting into Flint's long hair and twirling it around his fingers. His hard cock was pressed against Flint's stomach and he could feel Flint hardening under him.

“You've been with a man before?” Flint said quietly and again Silver nodded, his fingers playing with Flint's hair. Flint's own hands were resting on Silver's hips, one sliding around to his back, up his spine and into his dark and curly hair, fingers tangling in it and watching as Silver's eyes dilated when he tugged gently. He could feel Silver's cock twitch against his stomach.

“I want this,” Silver whispered and Flint finally nodded, his fingers tightening as he drew Silver forward, covering his mouth and swallowing his moan.

Silver shuddered as Flint's lips moved against his, tongue licking along the seam of his lips and his mouth dropped open, welcoming Flint into his mouth as he sighed.

He'd hated Flint when he first laid eyes on him, knowing what Logan's plan had been, dragging him to the General's tent late at night, his hands chained before him. Flint had surprised him when he hadn't taken advantage, and as the weeks had passed, Silver found that he wanted Flint to take advantage. He'd seen what no one else had seen, he'd seen that Flint was fair, that he had a heart, that he wasn't the monster everyone said he was. He'd been instantly attracted to the man, even as he loathed him, and as time passed, he hated him less and less and finally gave into his desires.

Drawn from his thoughts by Flint's hands sliding down his back, Silver shifted his hips slowly, rubbing them together through the fabric of Flint's tunic. Flint's fingers gripped his hips again and pushed him away before leaning back and tugging the tunic over his head and pushing down his small clothes, leaving him just as naked as Silver. Leaning back he lay on his cot, never taking his eyes from Silver as he snagged his hand and pulled until Silver was once more straddling him, leaning down to reconnect their lips gently.

Silver sighed, his eyes falling shut as he explored Flint's chest with his hands, for the moment ignoring how their cocks were brushing together with each movement, instead concentrating on the feel of skin beneath his fingertips, carefully tracing each scar he encountered.

“Get that,” Flint said, nodding his head to a bottle next to his pack. Silver stretched, fingers closing around it before he settled back over Flint, handing him the bottle.

Flint flipped them with ease, Silver's legs wrapping around his waist, fingers digging into his shoulders. They didn't stop kissing as Flint trailed his hands down and slid an oiled finger between Silver's legs, pressing against his opening gently. Silver moaned, his hips canting, and Flint's finger slid in slowly. When it was as far as it would go, he began to move, drawing his finger out and in again as Silver nipped at his lip gently, hands once more tangling in his hair.

“More,” Silver whispered against Flint's lips and Flint added a second finger carefully, swallowing Silver's moan as he arched, pressing them together from chest to thighs. He curled his fingers and Silver nearly screamed against his mouth, breaking out in a light sweat despite the cold, his hips rolling as he tried to drive himself down on Flint's fingers as Flint added a third.

Silver's hand drifted from Flint's shoulder, reaching for his cock only to have Flint bat his hand away and Silver huffed, digging his hand in Flint's hair and tilting his head to the side so Silver could get his mouth on Flint's neck, sucking lightly at his pulse.

When he finally slid into Silver it was like a wave of warmth washed over him, chasing the cold from his bones. Tight, pulsing heat surrounded him and he groaned, dropping his forehead to Silver's collarbone as he waited for the urgency to fade enough that he could roll his hips slowly, dragging his cock out at a pace that had Silver writhing before he pushed back in, each thrust growing a little harder as Silver's heels pressed into his back.

Below him Silver moaned, his head thrown back and the long lines of his neck exposed temptingly. Flint leaned down and bit his skin gently, his tongue running over the beat of Silver's heart as he moved, Silver's hands clutching him tightly and urging him on. He could already feel his release rushing up on him, surprised he had held off as long as he had. He hadn't been exaggerating when he said how long it had been, and the feel of Silver around him and against him was better than the finest wine Flint had ever had.

Reaching down, he wrapped a hand around Silver's cock, smirking when Silver gasped and groaned, eyes squeezed shut as he bit his lip. Flint could feel Silver clenching around him and knew the man below him was close to his release and he smirked again, pitching his hips forward hard as his hand tightened, moving in time with his hard thrusts. He tilted his hips and Silver gasped, spine arching as he spilled over Flint's hand, his hips writing as Flint slammed into him, groaning as waves of pleasure washed over him.

When Flint caught his breath again he pulled back slowly and collapsed to the side, snagging Silver and dragging him into his arms, feeling him still breathing heavily.

“Stay here,” Flint murmured agains this hair, drawing the heavy fur over them to keep the cold at bay. “You'll sleep better with the extra heat. You're still too thin.”

“All right,” Silver yawned, too tired to put up a protest even though he knew it would be the right thing to do. He should get his own clothes and return to his cot and his wool blankets, but Flint's fur was heavy and kept the cold out so much better that he was already drifting off to sleep, barely aware of how his skin was pressed against Flint's from his shoulders to his toes.

-:-:-

February became March and they continued to share a bed, exploring one another as they spent their days doing little else but waiting and writing endless reports that all said the same thing. The campaign had ground to a halt when winter came, the rebel leader vanished like a wisp of smoke. The attacks has lessened and there was hardly a murmur in the streets of any unsettled feelings since Rackham had arrived. The weather began to warm again as April came and they began to hold their breaths, waiting for the rebellion to rise with the warm weather, but Athens remained quiet.

Silver had settled himself into his new life surprisingly easily, for all that he still hated most of the men that surrounded him. A few of them were friendly, but most of them ignored him and his presence, unless he had a tablet and charcoal in hand, then he was at least acknowledged as useful. All in all, he spent most of his time quietly, enjoying having proper food and clothes, biding his time until something changed. He enjoyed how his relationship with Flint had shifted, but by no means would he stay if given the opportunity to flee.

Most of the time he only saw Flint in the tent, or wandering the camp. And though the camp was a strict military outpost by all accounts, it was months before Silver really saw the harsh general that had made a name for himself across the empire.

He woke with a start one day when shouts reached him and he scrambled out of Flint's cot, reaching for his tunic as he stumbled to the flap, looking into the main room of the tent. He hesitated, holding back when he saw the room was filled with people and Flint was shouting angrily at them while two of them shouted back. He couldn't understand what they were saying, speaking too loudly and too fast, but eventually most of the men left.

The last one was speaking too low for Silver to head and when he left, Silver carefully slipped into the room, walking slowly toward Flint.

“What happened?” he asked softly and Flint started, looking up at him from where he bent over the desk as if he'd forgotten Silver existed. He grimaced, then shook his head.

“Two of the men were caught stealing from the city,” he muttered. “Under torture we discovered they've been behind the minor thefts for months and they even gang raped a woman a few weeks ago. They're to be executed in an hour.”

Silver's stomach rolled. Since his home town had been destroyed he had miraculously managed to stay well away from any fighting or violence. He'd spent the last months sequestered in Flint's large tent, except for the few times they had moved camp, or he'd accompanied Flint on patrols, and the thought of seeing two men executed turned his stomach. He knew he would have to see it, the entire camp would be forced to see it, soldiers and slaves alike.

“Executed how?” he managed to force himself to ask. Flint looked up and met his eyes, pausing when he saw the sheer terror in them.

“What happened to your father?” he asked, instead of answering Silver's question. He suspected he knew, reading the look on the other mans face.

“Hamilton crucified him,” Silver whispered, cold sweat breaking out on his hands. He'd seen it happen from the hill, before he fled. Flint nodded, sinking down into his chair and running his hands through his long red hair.

“You'll have to see it,” he said quietly and Silver swallowed, nodding.

“I know,” he said, slipping back into the sleeping room, shaking as he sank down in the corner.

A page came for him later and he took a breath before dressing in the best tunic he had and left the tent, following the boy out into the camp. The men were dressed in full battle regalia, forming sharp lines as they stood, the two condemned men in full view of every battalion. Silver slipped in amongst the other scribes, trying to keep as out of sight as he could as he watched. He expected to see two new crosses waiting but instead there were ropes thrown over the thick branch of a tree. As he watched, the sentence was shouted out, and the men were allowed their last words. They were spoken to a priest, and they didn't carry, and Silver looked away as the ropes were looped around their necks and they were hung.

Then Flint was there, astride his pitch black horse, his voice carrying over the assembled men, his face fierce as he looked at them, his horse circling and stamping. It was a sight meant to strike fear into the men and it did just that. Silver felt himself shrinking back as Flint spoke.

“We are Roman,” Flint all but shouted, his voice carrying easily over the hushed crowd. “And that means that we have honour. We have integrity. We do not steal. We do not rape. You are my men, you will follow my orders, you will be the best that you can be, or you will suffer the same fate as those two,” he finished, pointing at the two men swinging from the tree.

Silver slipped away and back to the tent, curling around himself on the cot and trying to banish the images from his mind. He concentrated instead on Flint in full armour, the breastplate gleaming in the sun, the dark red of his cloak standing out stark against his skin. It had been a magnificent sight, one Silver wanted to see some other time, when there weren't men being hung, when the world wasn't crashing around his ears in an endless wave of change and uncertainty.

Hours later Flint returned, his armour gone and only the cloak wrapped around him over his usual dark tunic. He found Silver lying on the bed, staring at the wall and simply watched him for a while before he moved again.

“Come with me,” Flint said, jerking his head. “Bring a cloak.”

Feeling numb but somewhat curious, Silver tugged on his sandals and his long brown cloak, following Flint out of the tent and into the fading light of evening. By the time he caught up to Flint, the other man was already climbing on his horse. Another was waiting for Silver and Silver scrambled up quickly, following as Flint trotted out of the camp and south, into the hills.

“Where are we going?” Silver called, seeing Flint smirk when he refused to answer.

They rode into the hills, far from the camp, into the silence of the evening. The sunlight was completely faded by the time they stopped in a small clearing on the bank of a stream, trees surrounding them on all sides. They dismounted and tied their horses, before Flint caught Silver's hand and pulled him into the centre of the clearing.

“What is this?” Silver asked, shivering as Flint's fingers brushed over his shoulders and up his neck.

“I wanted to have you under the moon and stars,” Flint whispered, trailing his fingers down Silver's arms as Silver moaned, tilting his head back as Flint's lips descended to his neck, leaving a trail of light kisses.

“Amorous,” Silver teased quietly and Flint chuckled.

“Or I just want to show the Gods watching on high that you belong to me,” he mumbled against Silver's neck and Silver pulled back, his eyes hard. He didn't speak, but Flint could read his face.

_I belong to no one._

Flint smiled softly, nodding as he pulled Silver in and kissed him softly.

“I hope I didn't scare you today,” he whispered and Silver shuddered, thinking back to the men from that morning.

“You did,” he whispered softly and Flint held him a little tighter. “But I understand.”

“I should have crucified them,” Flint muttered, eyes closed as he rested his forehead against Silver's.

“Why didn't you?” Silver asked, tilting Flint's chin up and brushing a thumb over his eyelids.

“No man deserves to die like that,” Flint shook his head. “No matter what they've done, men condemned to death should be put to death, not left to suffer.”

“I know you didn't do it because...because of what I told you,” Silver said softly, his heart fluttering. “But thank you.”

“Perhaps I did do it for you,” Flint said softly and Silver shook his head.

“You did it because you're a decent man,” he chuckled. “Not because your scribe was sickened by the thought of two men on the cross.”

“How do you know?” Flint asked, opening his eyes and Silver swallowed, held by the intensity in them.

“Why would you do something like that for me?” Silver asked, confused as Flint continued to watch him.

“I don't know,” Flint admitted. “But perhaps I did.”

They didn't speak again, Flint too quiet and Silver too unsure. Instead they spread the cloaks on the ground where the grass had just began to grow again now that April and spring were upon them, and they moved together slowly under the light of the rising moon.

May became June and one day a messenger came, delivering a scroll to Flint with a heavy wax seal, the emblem of an eagle visible even across the room.

“What is it?” Silver asked quietly, watching him from the bed, a blanket wrapped loosely around his waist, the space where Flint had lain moments before still warm.

“I've been recalled,” Flint said, his voice hard and betraying no emotion. “We're to return to Rome within the month.”

_Rome, July, 176 A.D._

Rome was nothing like Silver expected it to be. He'd heard the stories of a glimmering city, of the architecture, the paintings. The stories of the rest of the city never made it past the wall. Rome was filthy, over crowded and cramped. The summer heat had arrived with the army and it was stifling. The smell was enough to make him constantly want to vomit, and it was only when they had passed through the streets and up the hill did he begin to take in the city around him.

The army was left at the outskirts of the city, dismissed to return to their own homes and families after they made a formal entrance to Rome, each man dressed in full shining armour. Silver rode a white horse, not far behind the captains as Flint road at the head of the column, his red cloak draped over his horse and his armour reflecting the sun.

After they were greeted formally, and from a distance, by the Emperor and the Senate, Flint and four of his guards headed east, up the Caelian hill. The view became more and more amazing as they climbed, Silver following silently after Flint had jerked his head for him to follow.

They reached a large house and grounds on the top of the hill and they were quickly surrounded by servants who buzzed around Flint eagerly, though he waved them off after a few moments, only asking for dinner to be prepared and brought to his room later. Silver followed him silently until they were shut inside a room deep in the house. Glancing around, he guessed that these were Flint's rooms.

The walls were a deep dark red, each corner filled with a decorative column. There were two tables along the walls, three couches and a desk. Against the north wall was a wide luxurious bed, draped in light linens. The west wall was almost entirely missing, a wide window opening onto a balcony half hidden by gauzy curtains.

“You can stay here,” Flint said, walking to the window to look out at Rome, taking in the view for the first time in three and a half years. “No one will bother you.”

“What about?” Silver asked hesitantly, not sure how to bring up the wife Flint had mentioned a few months before.

“She's not here,” Flint said quietly. “She's already gone to our summer home. I told her if she was happy to stay there, she needn't come back at all.”

“Do you...miss her?” Silver asked, tugging the light traveling cloak from his shoulders and tossing it over a chair. His small back of possessions landed next to it.

“No,” Flint said with finality and Silver didn't speak again. Instead he walked slowly to the window, resting his hands on Flint's waist, then slowly sliding them around his waist until he was embracing the other man.

“Would you like to have me?” he whispered against Flint's ear and Flint groaned, his head dropping back to rest against Silver's forehead.

“You know I would,” Flint muttered, turning in Silver's arms to kiss him, walking them back toward his large bed, much sturdier and more comfortable than anything they'd had before. He easily stripped Silver's tunic and pushed him back on the bed, eyes traveling the length of his body. Since it was summer and far too hot, neither of them were wearing small clothes. He tugged his own tunic over his head and tossed it away as he went to the table along the wall and fetched a bottle of oil, returning to the bed.

Silver had scooted to the centre of the bed, one arm behind his head, his curls fanned out across the sheets. One leg was straight and one was cocked at the knee, spreading him out for Flint's eyes. His skin was covered in a sheen of sweat from the head and his cock was hard, resting against his stomach as his fingers trailed lightly along his hip, fingers drawing small circles on his own skin.

Flint's fingers touched his skin at his ankle, drawing a slow trail up to his hip where they met with Silver's fingers and brushed them aside gently. He dropped the bottle on the bed, freeing both hands to run along Silver's skin, across his chest, up and down from his shoulders to his thighs and back.

“I want you to ride me,” Flint said quietly and Silver nodded, allowing Flint to roll them, settling easily on his knees and reaching for the oil. He slicked his fingers then reached behind himself, slipping one finger inside right away, moaning as he pressed back against his hand, slowly opening himself up and slicking himself with oil.

Flint watched him with rapt attention, hands roaming over Silver's chest as he worked himself, sweat beading on his skin. It was far too hot for this but Flint couldn't get enough. It was like he'd been asleep for years and Silver had reawakened him, awakened his body and its desires. Every time he looked at Silver he remembered what it was like to be inside him and he wanted to be right back there, in those moments. He never wanted to stop.

With a groan Silver pulled his fingers free, pouring more oil on his palm before reaching back to slick the oil over Flint's cock, drawing a gasp from the other man as he rose on his knees and slowly sank down, Flint slipping inside him as they both groaned.

He rode Flint easily, neither in a hurry in the heat, their skin slick with sweat as they moved together gently. Silver's breath came in shorter and shorter gasps as his steady rhythm began to shake and he leaned on his hands, steadying himself as he moved. Flint's hands ran along his thighs, rubbing lightly as Silver moved. Silver's hand grabbed one of Flint's and tugged it, wrapping it around his cock as he tilted his head back, sinking down on Flint hard, gasping as pleasure shot through his body. He'd learned early that Flint's pleasure was heightened by watching him, so he steadied himself and rode Flint harder, their slick skin slapping together, the only sound in the room besides their breathing. Outside the noises of the city drifted to them, ignored by both men as they approached the height of release.

“Are you ready?” Silver whispered and Flint nodded, tightening his hand.

“You first,” he said and Silver groaned, throwing his head back as he thrust his hips quickly and moments later he was spilling his release across Flint's hand with a long groan. Flint bit his lips as Silver clamped down around him and he felt his own release washed over him and his eyes rolled back in his head as his spine arched.

Silver collapsed on his chest, breathing heavily and Flint wrapped his arms around the other man tightly, pressing a kiss to his hair as they both tried to regain their breath. Silver wriggled a bit, trying to pull away from the mess but Flint just tightened his arms.

“Go to sleep,” he mumbled against Silver's hair. “I'll show you the baths later.”

Silver hummed, relaxing against Flint's chest with a small moan as Flint slipped free of him, settling as sleep overtook him, the comfort of Flint's skin and the feather stuffed bed more comfortable than he had ever been in his life.

-:-:-

A little over a week passed before Flint finally brought up whatever had been bothering Silver since they entered the city. Silver was lying with his head pillowed on his chest and Flint's hand was trailing up and down Silver's spine when he spoke.

“You seem unhappy,” Flint said softly and Silver just shrugged.

“I'm content enough,” he tried to dismiss, but Flint was having none of it.

“You work harder than anyone I've ever known, including myself,” Flint said. “What is your motivation for it?”

Silver raised his head to stare at the other man, incredulous.

“My motivation,” he said, astounded. “What in the name of the _Gods_ do you think is my motivation. Freedom. I want to get away from this place, I want to get away from you. I want to go home.”

“I never asked for you,” Flint growled and Silver grimaced, rolling away and leaving the bed, walking to the window. He didn't bother to reach for anything to cover himself.

“You didn't have to keep me either,” Silver muttered. “You could have sent me to the mines with the rest of them. You could have left me in Athens when you left.”

“You're of use to me,” Flint snapped. “You never met the man who used to translate Hebrew for me. If his father wasn't a senator I would have had him flogged and thrown out of my army years ago, but his father actually likes him, so I can do nothing. You've been invaluable.”

Silver snorted, shaking his head. “I suppose it doesn't hurt that I'm warming your bed, either.”

“You know I didn't want that,” Flint snapped. “You came to me of your own free will, I forced nothing on you and as far as I'm concerned the fact that we share a bed as no bearing on anything.”

“It has a bearing on everything,” Silver said harshly as he turned, tugging at the medallion around his neck. “You _own_ me. I'm your _slave._ ”

“You know I don't consider you that,” Flint said, rising from the bed and stalking over to Silver, pulling the chain from around his neck. “This is only so the others will leave you be when I'm not there,” he said, tossing it aside.

“But don't you see? To everyone else, I am your slave. It doesn't matter what the truth is, here in this room, between the two of us. To their eyes, I am nothing,” Silver said, his voice dropping with each word.

“You're not nothing,” Flint whispered, fingers brushing Silver's hair behind his ear. “You're far from nothing.”

“You're the only one who knows that, and for me, that's not enough,” Silver snapped, turning away. He knew he was on mostly equal footing with Flint these days, but it still hurt every time someone approached him, their eyes dropping to the medallion around his neck before they either ignored him, or spoke only in short words, trying to dismiss him as quickly as possible. In Greece at least he'd felt like he had a place, even if it was a secluded one. Here he felt like a leper.

“I'm sorry,” Flint said quietly, sliding his hands around Silver's waist and drawing him closer. “I'm sorry I didn't think.”

Silver only hummed, silent as he allowed his anger to simmer and fade.

-:-:-

It was late August when the note came and Silver slipped into the street, a hood pulled over his head to hide his face. It was dark, the sun gone from the sky, the night watch wandering the streets. It wasn't quite to curfew yet, so Silver wasn't too worried about being caught, but he had business that needed to be attended, now. He glanced down at the small medallion hanging around his neck once more, the medallion that showed the world he _belonged_ to Flint and he frowned. No, Flint didn't treat him like he was a slave or owned, but to the rest of the world he was no better than garbage, and it was bothering him more and more with each passing day. The argument had cleared the air between them, but the lingering resentment still hung heavy around his heart. He didn't want to be seen as property.

As he twisted his way through the streets he felt sick to his stomach, hoping that he hadn't been betrayed, hoping that when he reached the home of his father's friend, he would find his escape.

The shop was right where it was supposed to be and three knocks opened the door to him, a strong arm pulling him into the dim lamplight.

“You're late, boy,” a tall man snapped and Silver frowned. He'd gotten away as quickly as he could. The fact that he could come the same day as the note was almost a miracle. It was only because Flint had been busy that he'd been able to slip away.

“Do you have any idea who I am?” Silver said, straightening his spine.

“I know who your father was, but he's dead. You're nothing without him, just a runt who got himself captured and enslaved by a filthy Roman,” the man spat and Silver had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from hurling an insult back at him.

“I was told you could help me,” he said instead.

“Only if you'll do exactly as I ask,” the man snapped, turning and disappearing deeper into the shop. Silver followed him, noting it was an herbal shop, bundles of plants and jars of tinctures and lotions littering the small space. When he reached the back room he found five men clustered around the table.

“All I want is to go home,” he told them flatly. One man rose from his chair and towered over Silver, almost causing him to take a step back, but he held his ground.

“Leave it, Bones, he's young,” a man with grey hair and a thick beard muttered. “I'm Benjamin, lad, and if you'll help us, we'll get you back to your home.”

Silver looked over them all before he nodded slowly. “What do you want?”

-:-:-

Flint was awake when he returned, watching the door and Silver froze as soon as he saw green eyes on him.

“Where have you been” Flint asked, his voice hard. Silver was tense for a long moment before he relaxed, tugging his cloak off and dropping it over a chair, sitting carefully on the end of the bed, watching Flint warily.

“I went to see a friend of my fathers. The dissident you've been looking for,” he admitted. Flint twitched, his left hand obviously on his dagger under the pillow. Silver shook his head, glancing away.

“Was he not what you expected then? Could he not give you your freedom?” Flint asked, his tone layered with anger.

“He could,” Silver said quietly. “But I found I...didn't want it. Not for the price he asked.”

Flint remained silent, waiting for Silver to finish speaking. He was obviously still unarmed, meaning Flint could kill him in seconds, his dagger sharp in his hand. But he found himself waiting, wanting to hear the explanation. Wanting to hear it from Silver's lips.

“Your death,” Silver said softly. “He wanted me to kill you...he wanted me to kill all of you. At the Harvest banquet, he wanted me to poison the wine, kill all the generals.”

“And you refused?” Flint asked, keeping the surprise from his voice. He wasn't surprised there was a plot to kill him, or any of them, there was always a plot to kill one or more of them. Thomas has survived three assassination attempts and Vane, they had lost count. They'd laughed about it last time they saw each other, joking that he was touched by Juno, made immortal. But the fact that someone was targeting them all at once, that was a coup, a large one.

“I'm not a killer,” Silver said quietly, still looking away. “You haven't mistreated me. You've done nothing to harm me, you're fair. You're not Hamilton.”

“Were you instructed to kill him, too?” Flint asked, suspecting the answer. Silver took a deep breath and looked at him finally.

“No,” he whispered. “I suspect the person behind the rebellion in Greece is actually General Hamilton. I believe he's throwing support behind them to make the Emperor look weak, so that he can take his place.”

Flint nodded, his hand uncurling from the dagger as he sat up, sheet slipping low on his lap. “You're probably not wrong. General Hamilton has always been the worst of us, ambitious and power hungry to rival the Emperors of old.”

“I told him I would accept his offer,” Silver said quietly. “I can tell you where he lives, you can take him, do what you will. Get the information you need. He won't suspect that I've told you anything.”

Flint nodded, noticing that Silver was biting his lip hard and that his eyes were misty and on impulse he reached out, touching a hand to Silver's shoulder. A moment later his arms were full as the other man burrowed against him, sobbing into his shoulder.

“I'm sorry,” Silver whispered again and again. “I'm so sorry.” Flint wasn't sure if he was apologizing to him, to his family and his country, to himself. It didn't really matter. He just wrapped his arms around the younger man and held him quietly until the sobs subsided.

“Come on,” Flint muttered, slipping from the bed and tugging Silver with him, wrapping an arm around him as they walked through the house in silence. The servants were asleep and the lights were doused, only the guards at the front doors were awake and they knew better than to even look at Flint, much less say a word.

“Where are we going?” Silver asked softly, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“You smell like the slums,” Flint chuckled. “You need a bath.”

Silver laughed quietly, surprised enough that for a moment he forgot all about his meeting, following Flint into the bathhouse and letting himself be stripped bare and guided into the deep tub, the hot water surrounding him as he sighed. Flint pressed up against his back, arms circling him as they sank into the water up to their shoulders, Silver sitting on Flint's lap when he walked to the far end to sit on a submerged bench.

The room around them was silent as Flint reached for a cloth and rubbed scented oil over Silver's skin slowly, taking care to cover every inch, rubbing it in well and cleaning the dirt and grime of the lower city from him, running his hands in the path of the cloth for what seemed like hours.

“Take me,” Silver whispered finally and Flint groaned as he nodded. He pushed Silver away until he could spin him around, settling him so that his back was against Flint's chest and his legs were splayed on either side of Flint's. Reaching for the oil, Flint generously coated his fingers and slid them below the water, seeking Silver's entrance.

He wasn't as tight as he could be, his body relaxed and limp in the hot water, and it was easy to slide two oiled fingers into him, twisting until they brushed the soft area that sent him spinning. As expected, he groaned, arching in Flint's arms as a hand reached back to hold Flint's hair tightly.

Flint added a third finger, stretching gently before he withdrew, reaching for the oil again and slicking his cock below the water. Silver leaned forward, his hands on Flint's knees as he rose up enough that Flint could line himself up, then Silver sank down slowly, eyes shut and bottom lip caught between his teeth as he sank all the way onto Flint's cock, leaning back so they were flush with each other. Flint's arms came around his waist and chest, holding him tightly as Flint began to rock inside him, not withdrawing, just grinding, the tiny movement sending shocks through Silver.

Silver rolled his hips gently in time to Flint's shallow movements, spread open and exposed on Flint's lap. Flint's hands trailed down his chest, stroking gently before one dropped below the water and circled his cock loosely.

“Please,” Silver moaned, bracing his toes as best he could against the slippery floor of the tub and shifting his hips in time with Flint's. He felt safe with Flint's strong arms wrapped around him, holding him in place, and in that moment he knew everything had changed. Where before he'd wanted freedom, he's wanted to leave, now he knew he was free, perhaps freer than any other man in Rome, and he wasn't going anywhere.

“Let go,” Flint whispered in his ear softly and Silver cried out as his release slammed into him, his whole body shuddering as the world went blank around him. He could just feel Flint tensing against him before relaxing, his hands never stopping their movements along Silver's skin as he panted, blinking away the stars in his vision as he sagged against Flint.

“I want you to learn to use a sword,” Flint whispered and Silver didn't have the energy to stiffen against him in protest.

“What good does that do?” he asked instead, his voice quiet.

“There is trouble coming,” Flint whispered against his ear. “I want you to be able to defend yourself.”

“All right,” Silver muttered, turning and tucking himself into Flint's arms tiredly.

They lay like that for a long time, the hot water surrounding and relaxing them until finally Flint nudged Silver out and dried them both with large towels, taking his hand and pulling him back through the house. Dawn was just beginning to colour the sky when they fell asleep, arms and legs tangled together and Silver's head on Flint's chest.

-:-:-

The Harvest banquet was a loud and ruckus affair, wine flowing freely throughout the night. Flint had met each of the other four generals in secret and warned them of the danger posed to them and Vane had quietly sent two men to kidnap the dissident Silver had met with. He was secreted away into the tunnels below the city, held prisoner and questioned for three days before he admitted to his plans. Thomas, Vane, Rackham and Teach had all agreed to be careful and watch their backs at the party.

The entire evening was tense, and Flint had stood in the shadows watching Hamilton laughing and joking at the side of the Emperor, wanting nothing more than to take his dagger and put it through the man's eye. The others had mingled around the room, watching, listening, pretending to be far more drunk than they were.

“My father will not win,” Thomas had assured him, standing close enough to see the look that the shadows masked. Flint only grunted in acknowledgement, never taking his eyes from the older Hamilton.

When he finally slipped away in the early hours of the morning, he walked home slowly, alert and wary. He had two guards with him, enough that if someone ambushed him he would escape and perhaps kill his attackers, but not enough to draw unnecessary attention to himself.

He reached his home without incident and when he entered his room he found a single oil lamp burning and Silver pacing before the window.

“There you are,” Silver said, crossing the distance and wrapping his arms around Flint. Flint returned the embrace with a small smile.

“I'm not dead yet,” he chuckled and Silver shoved him lightly.

“I was worried he'd found someone else to make the attempt,” he said quietly and Flint shook his head.

“There was no sign of trouble,” he assured Silver. He reached up to brush his hair back and sighed, running his thumb along the swell of Silver's cheek, drifting around his eye slowly.

“Take me to bed?” Silver asked quietly and Flint smiled, leaning forward to kiss Silver lightly, hands resting on his hips as he pulled them together gently. Silver slipped his arms around Flint's neck, rolling up on the balls of his feet to bring him just the smallest bit closer.

“You surprised me,” Flint admitted quietly as he backed slowly toward the bed. “So many years I cared for nothing, felt nothing. All I knew was anger and ambition. Until I found...”

“What did you find?” Silver prompted as Flint sat on the edge of the bed, pulling Silver between his knees.

“Peace,” Flint said quietly and Silver smiled, leaning down to kiss Flint gently.

“You surprised me too,” he told Flint gently as he stripped their clothes away. “When your man took me from the other prisoners, I resigned myself to spending the remainder of my life as a whore to be used at every hour of the day.”

“And you're not?” Flint smirked, dropping his hands to Silver's backside and squeezing. Silver swatted him lightly, still smiling.

“The difference is you were kind, you fed me, you clothed me, you let me be useful. You let me love you,” he whispered the last part and Flint smiled.

“I've never been loved before,” he admitted softly and Silver leaned down and kissed him gently.

“I love you,” he said quietly. “Up until they asked me to kill you, I thought I still wanted to run. Then I realized that I had everything I needed right here. I didn't need to run from you. I didn't want to run from you.”

Flint chuckled, tugging Silver back until they collapsed on the bed. “I don't supposed I could get rid of you if I tried,” he muttered. “I find myself glad of it.”

“Hmm,” Silver mumbled as his mouth descended on Flint's chest, tasting his skin and slowly traveling lower until he could take Flint in his mouth and suck lightly, drawing a long groan from the other man as a hand tangled in his curls.

Silver hummed as Flint tugged on his hair, mouth slipping down to take in more of Flint's hard cock, tongue teasing at the underside as he swallowed, taking him all the way down so his nose was buried in the soft red hairs on his stomach. He drew back, sucking the tip gently and swirling his tongue before he dropped his head again and again, driving Flint wild with each movement and gentle suck. He smiled easily when Flint's fingers tightened in his hair in warning and he simply buried his nose against Flint's stomach and swallowed as Flint shouted, shuddering through his release as Silver milked every drop.

When he allowed Flint's softened cock to drop from his mouth it was only to be dragged up and over Flint, their mouths crashing together as Flint reached for him, hand curling perfectly and dragging along his cock with sure hard strokes until Silver groaned through his own release, tugging Flint against him as he held on tight and let the waves of pleasure overwhelm him and they breathed together.

-:-:-

_Rome, September, 177 A.D._

Winter was approaching again, the seasons passing as life went on. Silver got better and better with a sword and Flint was gone more and more, meeting with Thomas and Teach, trying to root out Hamilton's plans, head him off before he could truly set his coup in motion.

Shortly after the Harvest banquet, Flint had drawn up the papers that said under Roman law that Silver was a free man, and worked as his personal scribe, for which he was given a monthly stipend. Silver had almost protested, until he'd seen the look on Flint's face that told him whatever he said would be ignored.

In Athens the rebellion had risen again and even closer, in Rome itself, gangs had appeared from nowhere, moving through the city and harassing people for seemingly no reason. Only the few who know that Hamilton was behind it could see that the gangs were targeting people, vocal supporters of Aurelius, of Thomas as his successor.

It was raining the day the letter came.

“What does it say?” Silver asked cautiously, the look on Flint's face warning him to keep his distance as he read the page, the broken wax showing the two halves of Thomas' seal.

“Vane is dead, by Hamilton's hand. He has more than half the army and is marching for Rome as we speak,” Flint managed after a moment. “He means to kill the Emperor, the generals, even his own son if he has to.”

Silver watched Flint as he paced, his heart clenching, knowing what was coming.

“You need to leave,” Flint said, and there is was.

“No,” Silver said and Flint shook his head.

“Civil war is coming to Rome,” Flint snapped. “Hamilton has the army and he's determined to unseat Aurelius. There's nothing you can do here, but Rackham, Teach, Thomas, if we can band together we can beat his army, we can stop this. We might have enough men, and we're all here. We can surround the city and keep him at bay until the winter. We have enough supplies here to last for years he if continues his siege.”

“I won't go,” Silver said, moving to stand, stopped by Flint's look, one foot dangling over the edge as he sat.

“You won't win this argument. You're leaving on the next ship. I won't have you in danger,” he said.

“What does it matter if I'm-”

“They know who you are,” Flint said, rounding on him. “They know what you are to me.”

“And what am I?” Silver asked, his face a mask as he waited. Flint stared at him for a long moment before he crossed the room and dropped to his knees, his hands reaching for Silver's.

“You're everything. You're my only weakness,” he whispered. “All they would need to do is capture you and I would do anything they asked. I cannot be in a position that vulnerable if I'm going to save us all. I need you to go. I need you safe.”

“All right,” Silver said softly around the lump in his throat. “All right, I'll go,” he whispered one hand settling on Flint's cheek.

-:-:-

He would go to Britannia they decided, leaving on the next ship, sailing from Ostia in three days time. Together they slipped out of Rome and crossed the countryside by moonlight arriving at the docks just before dawn, watching around them as they moved through the streets as quietly as they could. The captain had been well paid to take Silver and to keep his mouth shut, to ferry him to Gaul where another ship would take him on to Britannia.

When they stood at the side of the ship, Silver turned, his hand reaching out for Flint.

“Come with me,” he said quietly, his eyes on Flint's. “You don't have to stay here.”

“And if I leave, who is going to stop Hamilton from becoming the next Emperor? Flint asked, shaking his head. “Aurelius isn't a young man anymore.”

“None of us are young men anymore,” Silver said with a look. “This isn't your fight, this can't be your fight. Let Rackham and Teach do it, let Hamilton's own son overthrow him.”

“It's all I've ever known,” Flint said so quietly Silver had to strain to hear him. “I never let myself think about another life. I couldn't. I will stay, and I will make Thomas Emperor, simply because I know that as brilliant a general he could be, and as brilliant a politician as he his, no one can take on his father alone, much less him. He's going to need my help.”

“Come to Britannia with me,” Silver said again, his eyes pleading. “I don't want to leave you.”

“If you don't leave, you'll be killed,” Flint said harshly and Silver's face hardened.

“And you? What if you can't defeat Hamilton? You think he will stop? He won't, not until you're dead, right along with his son and half of Rome if he had his way. He'll be the end of all of you.”

“No,” Flint said roughly, gripping Silver's arms tightly. “I'll be the end of him, and then Thomas will be the Emperor. Then I'll find you.”

Silver looked like he didn't believe a word but Flint didn't back away.

“I'll find you,” he said again. “Go to Britannia. Stay out of sight. When the time comes, I'll be there.”

“And if you can find me why wouldn't they?” Silver asked, trying to hide the tremble in his voice.

“They won't know what to look for,” was all Flint said, resting his forehead against Silver's. “They don't know you.”

“I hate this,” Silver said suddenly, his eyes filling with tears. “I hate this, I hate it, I don't want to go, I don't want to leave you here to this.”

“I'll be alright,” Flint said with a weak smile. “As long as I know you're safe.”

“Gods, I hate you,” Silver said roughly, dragging Flint into a desperate kiss. They held each other like it was the last time, and it may very well be. Finally, Silver broke away and turned, boarding the ship without looking back. He couldn't. If he looked back he'd never go.

As they cast off he kept his eyes forward, toward the sea. It was only later, when they were too far from shore for any hope of return, he looked back. Flint was still watching from the docks.

_Three Years Later_

Silver groaned, straightening his back after he set down the buckets from the well. He stretched his arms over his head, scratching idly at the homespun shirt that kept the damp and cold at bay. The weather had taken the most adjusting, when he had first come here, the change in clothing had been a close second, then the food. Silver had never bothered about food before until he was somewhere where everything was different. After three years, he thought he had settled in well enough.

Turning toward the house he sighed, reaching down to pick up the buckets again, carrying them inside. When he returned to the doorway he paused, squinting at a figure at the end of the walk, coming towards his house. He rarely got visitors, usually it was the girl from two farms over bringing him eggs or milk to exchange for the vegetables be grew behind the house. But this was not her, this was a man and…

Silver gasped, the sun breaking through the clouds and illuminating the red hair he was still so familiar with. It was shorter, and Flint moved slower, but it was him. After so long, Silver had almost given up, but now he found himself running, closing the distance and slamming into Flint, sobbing as strong arms surrounded him and held him tightly.

“It's done,” Flint whispered against his hair and Silver laughed, drawing back just enough to cover Flint's mouth in a desperate kiss that was returned instantly.

“I thought you weren't coming,” Silver gasped when he finally pulled away. “I thought you were dead.”

“I'm alive, I'm here,” Flint said quietly. “Hamilton is dead. Thomas is Emperor. He knows I'm not coming back.”

“I missed you so much,” Silver said quietly, his hands exploring Flint's face at the same time as his eyes. He had a few new scars, a few more lines, but his green eyes were soft, happy.

“I'm here,” he whispered again, and Silver smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m on Tumblr [Beneath The Black Sails](http://www.beneaththeblacksails.tumblr.com)


End file.
